


Eumenides

by semaphoredrivethru



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Epistolary, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-16
Updated: 2005-04-16
Packaged: 2017-11-03 18:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/384532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semaphoredrivethru/pseuds/semaphoredrivethru





	Eumenides

Harry,

I’m not good at this. Emotions, and expressing them, have always eluded me. When I was younger, I found that wrapping myself in a cocoon of aloof coldness was preferable to letting others see what I really felt. I suppose it became more than just a habit over the years, even going so far as to become the only face I know how to show at all.

But you, with your messy black hair, wide eyes that defy the simple word ‘green,’ and your giving, gentle spirit that refuses to be defeated no matter what evils befall you, have gone and done what everyone else has failed at time and again. You make me want to smile, to laugh, to give my students a day of idle time so that I might muse over your numerable charms; intolerable, really.

That an old, broken and bitter man such as I would be capable of holding the interest of such a vibrant being as you should be unthinkable. Your life has not been made easier since we have begun this affair, and I know that the secrecy must weigh heavily upon your honest heart. I do not wish to be a burden to you, because you have done nothing more than lift me up time and time again.

Yet every time you come to me, knowing I am as of yet incapable of coming to you, I feel my resolve to set you free melting like so much snow under the warmth of your smile. I just cannot bring myself to end this period of my life where for once I feel almost as though I might be worthwhile after all. It’s very nearly intoxicating, this alien sensation of happiness that you seem to bring with you.

I have nightmares. Waking in a cold sweat is nothing new to me, of course; it’s the reason that has given me pause, though. I dream that you have come to your senses and left me, and I have no choice but to try to remember what exactly it was that I enjoyed about being alone in the first place.

But when I wake to you sharing my bed, I know that I have no need for dreams. After all, in those hazy moments before sleep has completely fled, I find that my usual self-doubts are silent, and I am content to listen to the even sound of your breath.

In closing, I hope you understand what I am trying to say, because I cannot seem to find another way that is not trite, or severely lacking the proper depth that I seek. What you have come to mean to me transcends even my legendary linguistic capabilities, doubly so for this unfamiliar emotional territory.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry.

Yours,

Severus

~~~*~~~


End file.
